


Resistance

by silentdescant



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Fuckbuddies, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-14
Updated: 2011-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brad pays Adam a visit in his hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resistance

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write something tonight that was short and sweet (but not really sweet) now that I'm done with LambliffBigBang. This is what came out. Unbeta'd.

There’s a loud crash as bodies slam into the wall. Brad loses his breath for a moment; his fists unclench and he slips a few inches, but Adam catches him with an arm under his knees. Brad hitches himself up and squeezes his legs together around Adam’s waist, taking some of his weight off Adam’s hands.

Adam grabs his ass and pushes him against the wall again, this time pinning him there with his body as he takes his hands away. Brad reaches up and tries to find something to hold onto, but the wall is smooth and he feels himself slipping again. He feels Adam’s hands between them, trying to get at Brad’s fly, but there’s no room and they’re both moving too much.

Brad pushes hard at Adam’s shoulders, using the wall for leverage, and Adam stumbles back. Brad manages to get his legs under him before he falls all the way to the ground, but he still ends up in a weird half-kneel.

Adam makes no move to help him. He just stares hungrily as Brad struggles to get his pants off. He kicks off his shoes before everything gets tangled around his ankles, then he’s left sprawled on the floor in a torn-up t-shirt and naked from the waist down with Adam looming over him, still fully decked out in leather.

Brad jumps to his feet and shoves Adam backwards, so he falls on the bed, and then climbs on top. Adam fights him for control, squirming out from under Brad’s hands and slapping them away when Brad tries to pin him again. He finally catches Brad’s wrists and twists them until Brad cries out and relents. Adam flips them easily and straddles Brad’s thighs, holding him still.

Brad stares up at him defiantly. Adam’s still holding his wrists, but he’ll have to let go to get his pants off. He can see Adam realizing this and trying to revise his plan, but there’s no way Adam can hold him with only one hand. Brad smirks and wiggles his hips, baiting Adam with his cock.

Adam lets go of his wrists, but instead of reaching for his fly, he grabs Brad’s neck and digs his thumb in. It doesn’t really hinder Brad’s breathing—yet—but Brad’s too shocked to do anything with his hands but try to pry Adam’s fingers off him. Adam undoes his pants one-handed, never taking his eyes away from Brad. When he gets his fly open enough to pull his cock out, Adam brings his right hand up to join his left around Brad’s throat.

Brad gives up pulling at Adam’s fingers and starts scratching his forearms instead. When he gets up to Adam’s face and leaves a welt on Adam’s cheek, Adam lets him go. Brad scrambles up the bed, turning over to get his knees under him, and gets yanked back by his t-shirt, which goes tight around his throat. Adam’s on top of him again, this time pushing him face-first into the bed.

Brad kicks and his foot connects with leather—Adam’s thigh, it feels like—and Adam backs off. Brad takes the opportunity to strip off his shirt and face Adam again. The red mark on his cheek is already fading.

“You’re not really trying,” he taunts, throwing his shirt at Adam’s head. Adam snatches it out of the air and tries to use it like a whip and catch Brad across the chest, but Brad jumps back just in time. He hits the wall at the head of the bed, though, and this time he doesn’t want to run.

Adam shoves him into the wall again, pinning him there by the shoulders, and blocks the light with his body, bigger than Brad in every way. Adam turns him around and pushes him again. Brad lifts both hands and claws at the wall, keeping up the pretense of struggle as Adam positions himself.

Brad feels the wetness of precome sliding against his skin and panics. “Adam—”

“Shit, shit, hold on,” Adam mutters, backing away completely. Brad looks over his shoulder and sees Adam digging into his pocket.

“Do you have—”

Adam pulls out a condom triumphantly and Brad rolls his eyes. He gives Adam a moment to get it on, then asks snidely, “You ready yet?”

Adam slaps him sharply across the cheek and slams him back into the wall. Brad lets out a startled breath but doesn’t fight when Adam pushes his cheek against the wall with a firm hand at the back of his head. He doesn’t let go when he forces his cock into Brad’s ass and Brad reaches behind him and grabs Adam’s wrist, just for something to hold and squeeze.

Adam shoves Brad forward with each thrust, crushing his aching cock to the hard, slick wall. He finally lets go of Brad’s hair and holds Brad by the hips, keeping him still while he thrusts. Brad presses back against him, angling his body so his chest isn’t touching the wall to give his dick some room.

“You’re gonna come all over the fucking wall, aren’t you?” Adam mutters in his ear.

Brad tilts his head and props his forehead against the wall, pounding both fists near his head. “Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, do it. Do it,” Adam says. He’s getting that breathy tone to his voice that tells Brad he’s about to come.

He considers holding out, letting Adam come first, to see if he can get a blowjob out of it, but he’s not going to last. He punches the wall again in an effort to restrain from reaching for his cock. The whole side of his hand is throbbing, and it’s just another bright spot of pain about to drive him over the edge.

Adam hits his ass—not hard enough to really hurt; it almost feels like an afterthought—and comes with a loud, harsh groan. Brad squeezes around him and grinds his knuckles into the wall next to his face.

“Do it,” Adam hisses. Brad knows he won’t pull out until Brad comes, but hearing the words is enough. Adam reaches around and takes hold of Brad’s cock, stroking him through it and painting the wall with his come.

Only after they’ve both regained their breath does Adam pull out and dispose of the condom. He flops onto his back on the bed. Brad slides down to join him, resting his head on the same pillow.

“You good?” Adam asks.

“You know I love booty calls at three in the morning.”

Adam huffs out a laugh. “You didn’t have to come over.”

“Whatever. Not like I have anyone else to fuck me through the wall.”

Adam turns his head to look at him. Brad shifts onto his side and stares back. “Thanks,” Adam says softly.

Brad shrugs one shoulder. “You obviously needed it.”

“Didn’t mean to bruise your neck, sorry.”

Brad reaches up and touches Adam’s cheek. “Sorry ‘bout your face.” The scratch has faded a little more, but it’s still a bright pink mark.

“Makeup’ll cover it.” He gives Brad a long, hard stare. “I wish we didn’t need the condom.”

Brad rolls to his back and looks up at the ceiling. “Stop fucking around on me, then.” Adam doesn’t have a comeback for that. They both know they’re better off not together, though. After a moment, he sits up. “I need a shower.”

“You leaving?”

Brad stands up, wincing when his feet hit the floor and the jolt travels all the way up to his shoulders.

“You okay to leave?” Adam asks, propping his head on his hand.

“I’m fine,” Brad says, rolling his eyes. Adam’s seen him in much worse shape. “I’ll be bruised for about a week. If you’re still in town, give me a call.”

Brad reaches the bathroom door before Adam answers. “I just might,” he says, his eyes traveling slowly down Brad’s body.

Brad winks at him. “You can’t resist me.”

Adam shakes his head, smiling. “Never could.”

  
 _fin_.


End file.
